


Seattle

by Squintern



Series: Radius [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squintern/pseuds/Squintern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Epilogue</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seattle

Arthur laughs when Eames brings them to the shopfront where Dom Cobb first stood him up and instead sent his fiancée’s best friend to collect him. He continues to laugh as he remembers the way Eames looked standing there (like a drowned rat are his words) and the colorful expletives his was hurling at Mother Nature. He laughs for a solid minute when Eames says he fell in love with him on this spot. Eames gives him that last one. He didn’t fall in love with Arthur until years later. He just wanted to keep Arthur laughing.

When Arthur finally wheezes to a stop Eames has managed to set his face into a glower, acting as though Arthur has offended him. This sets him off again and he pats Eames on the shoulder condescendingly and tells him to hail them a cab or they’ll be late. He’s still chuckling to himself when they reach the warehouse they’re using and Ari looks up curiously to see what’s so amusing. Arthur shakes his head at her and turns to Dom.

“Remember when you hired the first forger in the business then got yourself thrown in jail for public indecency with Mal right when you were supposed to be picking him up?” he asks. Dom’s face goes blank.

“No, I don’t remember that at all. It must have been a dream,” he says quickly. Arthur smirks.

“That’s why you stood me up?! To have public sex with your fiancée?” Eames demands. Mal was lovely, sure, but he doesn’t think she was ever enough to leave a respectable gentleman like himself standing in the rain. When he expresses this sentiment, Ari, Yusuf, Arthur, and Cobb all end up laughing. Once they’ve quieted, Ari catches on something Arthur said.

“Wait, you were the very first person to try forging in a dream?” she asks breathlessly, turning to Eames.

“He was also the first to come up with the idea of totems,” Arthur adds, “at least as far as I heard.” He pulls off his jacket and drapes it neatly over the back of a chair. He adjusts the diamond and platinum cufflinks on his wrists and picks up a marker, ready to head to his whiteboard. Ari is gaping at him.

“You mean you didn’t know these guys basically invented dream sharing as we know it today?” Yusuf asks, astonished. Ari shakes her head slowly, still doing an impressive imitation of a fish. Eames, Dom, and Arthur share a smile.

“We’re going to need at least two levels for this one,” Arthur begins, turning to his beloved whiteboard, “and since Eames has been too busy getting our chemist drunk, we still haven’t got the formula for safe three-level dreaming.” Yusuf makes a face at his back and Dom shakes his head. Eames grins. Arthur turns back to them after making a list of people involved with their mark in his small, precise hand.

“Ari, close your mouth, you’re not a fly-catcher,” he says blandly and without missing a beat turns to Eames and says, “You’re not actually needed for this job, so do try not to be a pest.” Eames merely grins, leaning back in his chair and letting his legs fall open. Arthur looks unimpressed.

“I will do my very best, darling,” he lies. Arthur rolls his eyes and turns back to his board. Ari finally shuts her mouth and looks between them, shaking her head a bit, but smiling.

The warehouse is light and open. Seattle is dry for a moment and a watery sun is coming in through the windows. Arthur’s waistcoat proves that it is, in fact, navy as the light hits it and his cufflinks glitter and wink, sending spots of light dancing on a far wall. Ari stretches and leans into a ray of sunshine, unwinding her scarf to feel it on her skin as she listens to Arthur. Dom fiddles with a toy car, fingers lingering over the left front wheel that’s stuck only in reality. Yusuf yawns and slumps down in his chair, eyes heavy from jetlag (Arthur definitely catches this, but lets him drift off because if Yusuf doesn’t get enough sleep, they could all be poisoned on their first trial run). Eames slips his hand into his pocket and runs his fingers over the smooth surface of the faded red poker chip. Reality is peaceful for now. It won’t last, never does in their line of work, but they’re all happy to enjoy it for a bit.

 

(Two days into their stay in Seattle, someone shoots Arthur in the shoulder and instead of laying about moaning like any other self-respecting gunshot victim, he comes up with terrifyingly creative ways to off his attacker and refuses to sit still while Eames stitches him up. He spends six hours figuring out who shot him, then passes out from exhaustion before he can go after the guy. Eames takes care of it. Arthur punches him in the throat when he finds out he won’t have a chance to exact his own revenge. He then begrudgingly thanks him when the punch rips his stitches and mouths “I love you” into the skin of Eames’ shoulder while he closes the wound again. He still refuses to sit still.)


End file.
